


Did I Build This Ship To Wreck?

by Can_Of_Flowers



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - sub/Dom, BAMF Stiles, Derek Needs To Use His Words, Derek Needs a Hug, Dom Sheriff Stilinski, Dom Stiles Stilinski, Dom/sub, Domestic Discipline, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Kate was a bitch, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Safewords, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Sub Derek, Vulnerable Derek Hale, and he's trying, i hate her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-07-03 11:50:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15818316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Can_Of_Flowers/pseuds/Can_Of_Flowers
Summary: Stiles has been Derek's legal Dom for five months, but now that he has to move away for three weeks the Sheriff has been left to look after his sub - despite being a bit more traditionalist than them. Will things work out? Or will Stiles be going home early?ORThe universe where people are born subs and Doms and subs need to be taken care of otherwise everything goes wrong!





	1. What was it that I said?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! this is my fist official work and I can't wait to post more chapters! (they will be posted around every two weeks) Feel free to point out mistakes and comment criticism - I will try my best to respond.  
> Hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> Xx

“His past is... Fucked up at best and horrifying at worst and I need someone I trust to do this," Stiles sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair in frustration.

"Son, I've dealt with subs before, I know what to do," John rolled his eyes fondly at him, smiling in reassurance.

That only riled him up further.

"But Derek isn't like other subs! He needs to be praised daily, you can't physically punish him - actually even words phrased too harshly upset him! - and I love him and he trusts me as his Dom but now I have to go away -"

"Stiles!" The Sheriff cut in, hearing the rising hysteria in his son's voice. "Calm down. I know what to do, you need to go before you miss your flight."

Stiles breathed in deeply before Letting it out, attempting to relax. He reached down to grab his luggage, a bright blue suitcase with dozens of stickers graffitied all over, and gave his dad a final bear hug. Just then his flight was announced and he sprinted away, yelling goodbyes over his shoulder.

*****

The first couple of days with Stiles gone were relatively peaceful for the Sheriff while he prepared the house for Derek's stay. The man was a strong and silent type, but John got along with him just fine.   
When Stiles had first introduced him John had doubletaked, never in his life had he seen such a surly sub. He had a constant scruff on his pale face, thick eyebrows set in a constant frown and was built with muscle most Dominants didn't even have. Stiles assured him Derek was a sweetheart in private but the Sheriff sometimes thought that all Derek would need is a bit of tough love to stop his scowling - not that he ever considered that he would be the one to do it.

Just as dinner was done there was a sharp knock on the door and John rushed over to open it, taking in the dark figure of Derek Hale , dressed in all black with a neat black suitcase behind him. Once ushered indoors he deposited his things and sat at the dining table. After an attempt at small talk the Sheriff realised quickly that the short grunts he got as replies were all he would get.

They ate in silence.

When they finished Derek rose from his chair with such determination that the Sheriff sat back down in defeat, letting the sub clear the dishes. He finally stood in protest when Derek then started washing the dishes, irritation flashing across his face.

"I'll wash these, you are my guest," John stated, grabbing a plate from Derek's hands.

Looking down in frustration Derek gritted out, " you cooked, I'll wash."

They stood in the kitchen for a moment, still and silent as if waiting for the other to crack, before John finally let go and turned in annoyance.

"Fine, but just this once!" He called after him as he slowly made his way to his room.

*****

It was not just that once, in fact for the last four days the Sheriff had been letting Derek wash the dishes after a stubborn showdown. They spent the days apart and only ever tried conversation at dinner before the process of arguing over chores begun. Finally, he snapped.

"Derek, drop the plate!' John ordered, voice firm.

There was a clatter as a plate was dropped into the sink, Derek's shoulders tense from where the sheriff was facing them.

"Go to bed, I will clean, okay?" The Dom thundered, waiting for Derek to turn around.

When he did John froze in shock. Derek was pale, eyes watery and hands shaking, he avoided eye contact, mumbled out a 'yes sir' and practically ran upstairs. John sighed in frustration, guilt clawing at his throat and decided to do what he’d been avoiding this whole time - he called Stiles.


	2. Make my bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!  
> To anyone still reading I'm so sorry for the wait!! I've been really busy recently!!! That being said I hope you enjoy this chapter, if you want to see anything in particular in this fic feel free to comment I love suggestions!
> 
> Xx

"Let me get this straight, you snapped at him-"

"Yeah but-" 

"You haven't been praising him-"

"He wouldn't let-"

"And now he's hiding upstairs!?" Stiles finished, a light growl in his voice.

John clutched the phone tighter in his hand, flushing in shame. Stiles had silently let him explain, before preceding to scold the sheriff for not telling him sooner. Only now did he realise how much he'd screwed up. Derek had been silent for so long that he'd forgotten what he needed to do.

"I'm sorry, son." John sighed, "I should have done something - or at least told you sooner."

Stiles sighed back, voice muffled through the phone, "no, I'm sorry I didn't check with you sooner."

"So what should I do?"

 

******

 

The sheriff knocked lightly on the door to stiles - now Derek's for the time being - room and waited until he heard the mumbled ' come in ' from the other side. When he stepped into the room John immediately saw the shape of Derek's body under the blankets. He stared for a moment before sitting on the foot of the bed, noticing a tuft of black hair sticking out from where the blanket met the pillow. He smiled.

"Derek," John started, " I talked to Stiles."

Derek twitched from beneath the covers, lifting his head enough to reach the side of the blanket and look at the sheriff imploringly. Misty green eyes met John's pale blue.

"First of all, I'd like to apologise - I haven't been looking after you like I should have been. That's my fault." 

Raising his eyebrows, Derek stared in shock for a second at his face - searching for a hint of insincerity - before quietly saying, "it's okay."

John frowned, " we both know it's not okay, but we can talk about that later. The second thing is both me and Stiles both think that you should wear your collar from now on - just until he gets back."

Derek flushes, hand coming up to scratch his stubble from under the blanket. His collar is amazing when it comes to grounding him, and it's always a nice reminder of stiles' claim over him. But it also catches people's stares, strangers in the grocery store sending odd looks, a colleuge commenting on it in the break room. Because he is gruff, and fierce, and closed off and doesn't deserve soft words and kind gestures. Doesn't deserve pretty things.

The sheriff watched the emotions flicker across the subs face - happiness, hesitance, doubt, fear - before clearing his throat to bring Derek back to reality. He held out the collar that he had taken from where it was neatly placed beside the lamp on the bed side table. Derek took it.

He traced the gold stitches along its sides, felt the soft dark green leather in his palm and finally  reached the gold tag hanging from the front. Stiles had joked about putting sourwolf on it just to tease him but they both knew this was special. In the end they went with simple, on one side of the tag it said Stiles and on the other it said kohanie. 

 

*****

 

_"Dammit stiles we're not teenagers! Do you have to leave so many hickies?!" Derek growled, rubbing the marks on his neck as he stood in front of the mirror._

_Stiles looked up from his phone and grinned  wickedly, " but they look so pretty on you!"_

_"Yeah and that's what everyone else thinks when they see them?" Derek rolls his eyes and Huffs in annoyance._

_Stiles' smile dims slightly, seeing the dark expression on Derek's face as he starts styling his hair. The Dom stands, discarding his phone on the bed and walks up to Derek, putting his arms around Derek's middle and resting his head against his neck. Their eyes meet in the mirror._

_"You are beautiful - i don't care what others think as long as they know you're mine."_

_"And how are they supposed to know that from a couple bruises?" The sub grumbled, hands lifting to clutch at the Dom's arms, holding them against his chest._

_Stiles sighed, and resolve steeled across his face. He pulled at Derek's middle, steering him towards the bed and threw him down onto the covers. The sub yelped in surprise, laying on his back in confusion with stiles standing over him._

_"We both know that it's too soon to have an official bond" -_

_"I know that"-_

_"But, what about a collar?" Stiles finished, raising his eyebrows at Derek's interruption._

_Derek stared, cheeks blushing darker by the second, and a hesitant smile blessed his face._

_"I'd like that."_


	3. Am I Losing Touch?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Jesus it's been sooooo long . I really apologize a lot of horrible stuff has been happening to me recently and I just haven't had the time to write!  
> Please forgive me!!!
> 
> **Tigger warnings for verbal harassment**
> 
> Xx

The next morning John trudged down the stairs, tired and grumpy, to find Derek cooking at the stove in his kitchen. He blinked, taking in the two plates piled high with toast and eggs, and watched in astonishment as Derek placed bacon -bacon!- on the plates. The sub hummed too himself slightly, and turned to reach the fridge before he spotted John and jumped.

"I , um, cooked breakfast, " Derek mumbled, hand going to scratch nervously at the back of his head.

This brought John's attention to his neck, which was wrapped in his collar. The leather stood out against his pale skin and it's tag was hanging proudly at the base of his throat. Gradually letting the smile grow on his face, John took a plate and motioned to the table.

They sat down together for breakfast, the sheriff thanking Derek for his meal, before John went upstairs to get changed into his uniform for work. He was dreading work today because he had to face the behaviour complaints that one of his deputies keeps getting. The deputy had received ten seperate complaints about his mistreatment of male submissives and woman dominants. And confronting someone on their prejudice never goes well. But, John sighed, at least he can fire that prick with a cause.

It was one of his oldest deputies, one who had run for sheriff on the same year as John had. He had always got by by just about doing his job, only letting his opinions out under the radar. But in this day and age people picked up of things a lot better, and his deputy was now risking law suits if not fired immediately.

The sheriff took his gun from his safe and tied his boots, feeling himself lock up his emotions and replace them with the calm and collected leader that protected his town. When he was completely ready he went back down stairs and walked into the kitchen to say goodbye to Derek.

The sub jerked back from the sink where he had been cleaning the dishes in panic, eyes wide. John looked at him, then at the sink, and then back at him. He walked past Derek, and grabbed his keys from the table, before stopping In front of Derek. He reached out, ignoring the sub's flinch, and patted Derek's head. After a moment of scratching his scalp and feeling the sub press into his hand John pulled back and smiled. 

"Good boy," he reassured, and left for work.

 

~~~~~~

 

Derek stood for a second when the sheriff left, frozen in shock with his face burning red. He slowly went back to washing the plates, and then moved on to dusting the house. The disorder was making his skin itch and the sub knew that if he didn't clean he'd just sit and do nothing.

He cleaned until everything was spotless, before reading in Stiles' room. The comic that he was skimming through was from Stiles' shelf and was about a man with a tragic past who became bitter and violent. The man was powerful and terrifying, with long metal claws and skin that knitted together in seconds. He closed the book. Several hours later he got up to start lunch. He cooked pasta, a lot of pasta, and when he noticed the time it was ten minutes until the sheriff's lunch break. 

For a moment the sub paused, thinking, before putting some of the pasta in Tupperware and leaving to go to the precinct. 

After struggling through traffic and the miserable rain he got to the police station and ran inside. The precinct was primarily a large area painted grey with all the deputies desks and a large cell in the corner. When Derek arrived he was stopped at the front desk by a bright blonde receptionist.

"Hello there," she bubbled, leaning forward to show off her cleavage.

"Hello," Derek cleared his throat awkwardly when her gaze moved over his body, seeing her stare fix on his collar " I'm here to see the sheriff."

"Okay hun, I'll tell him and you can just wait over by those chairs!" The receptionist grinned, her makeup cracking around her lips, and stretched over her huge desk - knocking over a mug of fluffy pink pencils in the process - and passed him a pass with the word "visitor" stamped on it.

"Thank you," he mumbled, making his way to the cramped seating area.

Derek sat for a few moments, clutching his Tupperware and looking at the ground. There was a small woman sitting in the chair next to him who was edging further away, a big burley man with an unlit ciggerate between his teeth sitting across from him, and a small group of traumatised looking students muttering to eachother in french.

He heard footsteps and looked up, frowning slightly when he saw not the sheriff but a deputy - one he'd met before.  When you look like Derek a lot of panicked old ladies will report you for "suspicious behaviour" when you're shopping, walking through the park, or even out on a date with your Dom. Somehow this deputy is always the one to be called.

"Derek, not causing trouble I hope," the deputy grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Deputy, I'm here to see the sheriff," the sub mumbles, scratching at his neck nervously.

The deputys cold blue eyes locked onto his collar like a hawk's, and his smile suddenly showed all his teeth.

"So you're a submissive after all, you sure don't look the part," he leans closer, forcing Derek to lean fully back in his chair just to maintain eye contact.

"You got a problem with that?" The sub muttered, feeling the seed of panic grow in his stomach.

" No, no sweetie," his whispered words felt like slime on Derek's skin, " I'm simply thinking things would have been easier between us if I'd known that deep down you were a pathetic bitch."

Derek felt his eyes water, and he looked around wildly for help. The receptionist was on the phone, and the deputies were all either busy or smirking at him from their desks. Sitting next to him the woman pulled her coat up around her ears and stared blankly forward.

"I wonder who's stuck with you now, who gets your lips wrapped around their dick and your ass to beat. I bet they keep you as a desperate side bitch, needy and sad. What do you think, Derek, do you think you're worth anything but a quick fuck, ready to be thrown away after?" The deputy laughs, and anyone out of ear shot would think they were having a fun, casual conversation.

Derek gripped the Tupperware tighter in his hands and gritted his teeth. The punch, neither of them were expecting. One second the deputy hung over him, the next Derek had smacked him to the ground and was looking over his body. The receptionist screamed, and another deputy grabbed his arms - forcing him to drop his Tupperware - to restrain him. The deputy was yelling from the floor, face red with rage and blood, and Derek felt tears running down his face.

The whole precinct had erupted with alarm, but it all silenced when the sheriff slammed open his office door.  John stormed closer, and his face was dark and thunderous.

"Get him to medical," he pointed at the deputy on the floor, " and Hale, come with me."

Derek pulled free of the deputies grip, grabbed the Tupperware from the floor, and hurried after John with snot and tears running down his red face. He followed him into the sheriff's office, and waited until the door closed to drop to his knees and start to sob.

"I'm so sorry sir! I was just waiting and he came up to me and I didn't mean to I swear!" The sub wailed, cheeks bright red and head down in shame.

John sat on the couch which was along the wall of his office, sighing, before reaching over to Derek. He hooked two fingers around his collar and dragged the sub forward until he was sitting at John's feet. Derek looked up in confusion. Calmly looking down at him, the sheriff rested a hand on his head and started to stroke his hair. The sub frowned and pulled away slightly, preparing to explain himself when John stopped him with a raised hand.

"We will talk about this later, hitting is not okay, " Derek shrunk back in shame, "but right now you are upset and worked up. And no matter how crappy I have been at everything else so far I know how to calm down a sub. Got that?"

"Yes sir," the sub meekly looks up at him, eyes still watering, and passes him the Tupperware container.

John looks at it, inspecting its contents, before his face lights up in surprise.

"You made me lunch?" He questions, holding it like it was a prized jewel.

Derek nods, a reluctant smile granting his face at the evidence of the sheriff's joy. He shifted his feet underneath him until he was properly kneeling, the hard carpeted floor digging against his jeans. When he looked up John passed him a pillow, noticing his discomfort, and he spent a moment getting the pillow beneath his knees.

"Thank you sir," Derek hummed, letting his head rest on the sheriff's knee and his mind drift.

"No, thank you," John smiled, and the sound of him opening the pasta container was the last thing he heard clearly before Derek's mind settled into the foggy calm of his subspace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and prompts are my favourite thing and are always appreciated!! (Even if it's just to say I'm taking to long)
> 
> Xx


	4. Am I losing touch?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been ages, and my writing in this is terrible. I've been going through a tough patch after a death in the family, will update when I can.
> 
> Xx

Derek floated for at least an hour, the sheriff's voice in his ear and hand in his hair. The world slipped away gradually like sand through his fingertips. His hands were both holding the sheriff's legs and he leant his head on John's knee. Slowly but surely though, despite his resistance, the sub's mind returned to awareness. The sheriff's hand soothed down his hair, and Derek let out a whine.

Then, the sub stiffened, panic settling in after being unaware for so long. John felt him tense, and called his name quietly. Derek lifted his head, and the sheriff shouted in surprise.

"Jesus Christ!" He jumped up and pushed away, fumbling for his gun and pointing it at the sub's face in fear.

The sub in question, after having being pushed to the floor, was whimpering under the Dom's scorn with his eyes watering. Eyes which were flashing bright blue. His face was morthed, thick petruding brow pressing down on blindingly eletric eyes, mouth forced open around fangs. The sheriff stared in terror, backing away whenever Derek's gaze went back to him.

"Sir?" The sub lisped around his fangs, reaching out with a clawed hand.

"Stay the fuck back!" John yelled, waving his gun pointedly.

Derek flinched back, lip curled in a defensive snarl, and backed into the office corner in a crouch. He stared helplessly at the sheriff, who paced back and forth with his phone in his hand. Filling the tense silence, the dial tone obnoxiously rang until it was cut short by the other line.

"Hello?" A fuzzy voice answered, making Derek immediately perk up.

"Stiles, why the fuck does Derek look like a monster right now?" John thundered, the sub making a sound of hurt at the name.

"Oh hell, uhh... Surprise? Werewolves are real?" Stiles replied nervously on the other line.

"What!? This isn't a joke!" He hissed back, " there is a thing in the corner of my office that was a sub coming up from subspace and now looks like he belongs in the rocky horror show!"

"Wait, coming up from subspace? As in you just left him while he was coming up and are now shouting about him being a monster? What the hell dad?" Stiles asked defiantly through the phone, his voice getting angrier by the second.

"You know what? I can't deal with this! You talk to him!" The sheriff yelled defensively, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on the couch, walking away to lean against the door with his arms crossed.

There was a moment of silence, Derek still staring warily at john with scared eyes, before stiles spoke.

"Derek? You there?"

The sheriff watched the subs face light up, even behind the horrific deformities. Slowly Derek inched closer to the phone.

"Sir?" 

Stiles sighed at the hesitance in his voice, he'd thought they'd got past this.

"Hey baby, could you shift back for me?" The Dom asked, wishing that he could see Derek and knowing that it showed in his voice.

"Yes sir," Derek mumbled, letting his face glide back to normal.

The sheriff watched in awe as his brow sunk back into his face, thick hair sprouted from his cheeks into usual stubble and teeth slipped back into his mouth. Lastly, Derek's eyes dimmed back to the grey-green colour they had been before and the sub was left crouching on the ground. 

"You done?," Stiles' voice checks from the phone.

"Yeah," Derek whispered, picking up the phone and sitting on the couch with it in his hands.

"Hi Derek," Stiles said again, checking the sub's mindset.

"Hey Stiles," Derek smiled, clutching the phone and drawing his knees up against his chest.

"Can my dad sit with you?" Stiles began, wondering if John had left the room.

"Umm, I don't know if he wan-"

"Yeah I'm coming," the sheriff interrupted, walking over and lightly sitting beside the sub, who shot him a wary look.

"Okay, that's good, now can someone tell me what's going on?" The Dom questioned, voice slipping into stern.

Derek looked at John, and John looked back. Everything was so busy they hadn't even discussed what had happened with the other deputy. The sub was the one to drop his stare to the floor, and John internally cursed himself for intimidating him.

"The deputy from before saw my collar, he started berating me so I punched him," Derek stated blankly, a hand reaching up and touching his collar to comfort himself.

"That fucking haigh! Why won't he just leave you alone?" Stiles growls indignantly.

"Deputy haigh? What has he been saying?" John asked worriedly. 

"Haigh hates Derek. A lot. He shows up whenever a 'fragile' citezen complains about Derek existing in their space, and basically uses it as an excuse to be a homophobic asshole with a god complex," Stiles growls, "and it doesn't help that Derek isn't the most obedient person which can translate to challenging authority."

The sheriff pauses for a moment. 

"Isn't the most obedient person? Are you sure?" John checks warily, trying to think of anytime he had seen Derek be disobedient.

"Pretty sure, why?"

Derek catches John's gaze again and quickly looks away, his grip on the phone tightening.

"He's been very... Submissive with me. Hasn't done anything even slightly rude to be honest," the sheriff says, frowning at Derek and watching the sub shrink in response.

"Derek?" Stiles' voice is concerned and quiet.

Derek stared at his hands, frowning , before saying under his breath, "I didn't want to make you mad again."

"When was I ever mad?" John asks, thinking back over their past interactions.

"When I first met you... " Derek whispered, looking up at the sheriff with wide eyes.

 

~~~~~~

 

"Okay, it's gonna be fine. You just have to get through dinner and we can go back to my place and order pizza. Well - actually we might be too full for pizza. Ice cream? Oh god are we out of ice cream?" Stiles paced In front of the door, Derek watching him with amused eyes.

"Derek? Do we have ice-cream?" The Dom's slightly manic voice made Derek finally step forward, a half smile on his face as he leaned around Stiles and rang the doorbell.

Stiles squawked in surprise, face indignant. The sub smiled wider, kissed him on the nose and expertly spun stiles round to face the door just as it opened - revealing a smiling sheriff behind it. His eyes then looked beyond Stiles at Derek, and the smile dimmed.

"Stiles, I presume this is Derek," John plastered a wide, and much less genuine, smile back onto his face and reached out a hand.

When Derek shook it he squeezed slightly too hard, making the subs hand throb and Stiles'eyes narrow.

"Dad, daddio, father, this is Derek. Derek, this is my dad - who is going to let go of your hand now," Stiles stated, linking arms with Derek and pulling him into the house until they reached the dining table.

"If you sit down I just need to speak with my dad for a moment," with that Stiles walked away, pulling John into a room and closing the door.

Derek ignores the harsh whispers, smoothing down his shirt and fixing his hair nervously. He wanted to make a good impression. The door burst open to reveal an irritated sheriff and overly cheerful stiles. Stiles promptly sat down next to Derek and smiled reassuringly while the sheriff got their plates ready. Depositing them on the table and taking his own seat, John ate in silence for a moment with his eyes fixed on Derek .

"So, Stiles said you were a submissive, right?" The sheriff asked, watching Derek's cheeks turn red and Stiles splutter at the sudden question.

"Yes sir," Derek steeled himself, " I'm Stiles' submissive, actually."

Humming to himself, John took another bite of his food before continuing.

"Has he collared you?" 

Derek's blush grows darker, "no sir."

John knows he's going a bit too far, Stiles' outraged face at his questions being proof of that, but he couldn't stop. This man was 5 years older than his nineteen year old son, and wouldn't look like a sub even if you slapped a collar around his neck. There had to be a motive here.

"Well then, Derek. Tell me about your family?" John tried for an easier question, an attempt to provide a false sense of security.

There was a loud snap as the fork in Derek's hand broke in his grip, making the others jump in surprise. Derek looked at his hand in dismay, before standing and hastily retrieving another fork. The sheriff stared at him in shock for a moment, glancing at stiles to see him cringing to himself.

"A-anyway... How long have you two been together?" John asked, eyes narrowed on Derek's hand.

Stiles jumped in, received to be able to answer, "three months and 15 days!"

"That's quite a while, at what point were you going to tell me about his age, Stiles?" John accused, stabbing into his food.

"I didn't have to, I'm 19, he's 24, we have every right to be together," Stiles gritted out, hand moving to Derek's and gripping when the sub made a noise of distress.

"Technically, yes. But I can still be curious, can't I? After all the last time I saw Derek he was younger and with a submissive himself." The sheriff pressed on, watching Derek's face go pale at his last comment.

Stiles couldn't help but turn to his submissive in question, frowning slightly.

Derek stuttered and looked like he was about to be sick, "that was an old ... Friend. I don't really like talking about her. But I am a submissive!" He rummaged around in his pocket and found his i.d. , showing John the s for submissive printed on it.

The sheriff grumbled to himself, looking unsure.

"Look if you really don't want me here," Derek mumbled miserably, standing from his chair.

"I'm not done," John growled, watching stiles attempt to follow Derek in panic.

"I'm going okay?" Derek huffed, turning away from them and making his way to the door.

"Derek, stop!" The sheriff ordered angrily, freezing in shock when Derek dropped to his knees helplessly at the command.

"Dad! What the fuck?!" Stiles yelled, rushing to Derek's side and pulling him into his arms.

"I.. I thought.." John trailed off, watching the disgruntled submissive cling to stiles in distress.

"You don't order around a submissive against their will!" Stiles snapped angrily, still embracing Derek.

"I just didn't think .. he didn't really seem submissive.." the sheriff crouched down to their level, hesitantly placing a hand on the submissives hair. "I'm sorry."

Derek glanced at him, expression wary, "its fine," he sighed, " no one really expected me to be like this anyway."

"And that's fine." Stiles pressed, hold tightening, "because you are perfect the way you are."

Derek leaned back to look his Dom in the eyes, and smiled up at him. After a moment, John looked away, the fondness in their eyes a little too intense for his liking. Jesus Christ, he thought, this one's gonna be a lot of work.


End file.
